


The Power That’s Inside

by Shiropropaganda



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, I do what I want, M/M, Pokemon AU, Rating will change, pokemon canon divergence, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-18 05:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16111469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiropropaganda/pseuds/Shiropropaganda
Summary: Keith wants to be the very best, but... it’s not as easy as he thinks it is.





	1. Chapter 1

Keith pitches his tent well outside the city limits. He’d dropped off his starters for a night of healing at the PokeHospital and flips through his holo-phone looking at the battle brackets for the upcoming tournament.

He stretches out his legs, back resting against a log, ignoring the chirps of wild pokemon as they rustle in the trees. A Caterpie or two inch by, but he pays them no mind. He doesn’t have time or resources to waste on small scale pokemon. He’s in it to win. His stomach growls, and he up-turns his pack, frowning at the meager contents and then side-eying his Zorua, dozing with her head pressed to his hip. 

She blinks up at him after a moment, and he sighs, dividing the last bit of his food in half and feeding her as the sun sinks below the treeline.

The tournament is a few weeks away, but Keith likes to watch as trainers roll in. He isn’t exactly unknown-- thanks to Lance and his stupid video channel-- but he’s kept a low enough profile that most people won’t know that it’s his face behind Trainer Kogane. The anonymity is what drew him to becoming a trainer in the first place-- Keith’s family was gone, friends few to none, and the thrill of the chase drew him in like a Venomoth to a Charmander’s tail. 

He recognizes a few trainers-- also thanks to Lance and his stupid channel-- milling about the city when he ventures in for supplies or the PokeHospital, and Keith thinks camping out will be a nice break from his cut-throat circuit across the country, trying to take down as many gyms as possible before the tournament enrollment deadline.

Zorua yips at him playfully when he returns to the campsite, and he lets her jump into his arms. He knows she’s grateful to stretch her legs, knows he should let her out more often, but… Keith has built a reputation on being a calculating competitor. He’s won money and badges for having strong and efficient pokemon. He doesn’t want to risk others knowing about Zorua. She was his first pokemon, one who all but crawled into her ball for capture after he rescued her from predators, and he can’t bring himself to evolve her, no matter how much stronger she’ll become. Other trainers would be merciless if they knew, so most of the time he keeps her tucked in the back of his belt.

She loves him anyway.

Zorua sits at the door of Keith’s tent, ears perked and listening. It’s barely day break when he wakes to a soft huff and a yip from where she’s curled at his feet. The sound is more curious than concerned, and Keith unzips the tent to let her out, watching her as he blinks sleep from his eyes.

There’s something moving in the forest nearby, and his gaze narrows in the direction of the sound.

Keith can vaguely make out two shapes, a small one close to the ground and a towering shadow behind it, and he strains his ears as he reaches for Zorua’s pokeball incase he needs to call her back quickly.

“Good boy, yeah, I know you can find it!” 

The voice that reaches Keith’s ears is rich and smooth, and suddenly the two figures are moving faster, barreling through the treeline and  _ oh _ \--

A Slurpuff emerges, following its nose and it halts directly in front of Zorua. The man that steps out into the light behind it is…

Well…

A  _ shock _ . Tall and broad with silver hair and a silver arm to match. He’s got a fresh scrape on his face and dirt on his hands and Keith takes a moment to remember to breathe. He’s shaken from his staring when Zorua makes a soft yipping sound, and he steps out of the tent quickly, doing his best to scowl at the intruders.

Either his look fails or the other man doesn’t notice because he sees Keith and beams, waving a hand cheerfully.

“Good morning!” he calls, “Puffs smelled something friendly nearby, I hope we didn’t wake you.”

Keith blinks slowly at him, watching the man scratch the back of his head nervously as his cheeks tinted pink.

“Do you want some coffee?” Keith asks, surprising himself as he steps a bit closer, picking up a stick and poking at the cinders that had survived the night.

The smile he gets in return from the man is enough to warm him in the crisp morning air, even before the fire reignites. He’s glad Lance isn’t around to tell him he’s smiling back.

 

“I’ve never seen a Zorua in its original form before,” Shiro says a few hours, cups of coffee, and two rounds of shared food later, “I’ve seen a few in their transformation state, or disguised as kids but never like this.”

Zorua’s ear twitches, but she sprawls beside Shiro’s Slurpuff contentedly.

“She doesn’t transform much,” Keith replies, “Unless she senses danger. Which… you clearly aren’t.”

Shiro chuckles, stroking his pokemon with steel fingertips.

“Don’t underestimate me,” he sighs, leaning back and kicking his long legs out in front of him, “Slurpuff may be small and cute, but that’s just surface level stuff.”

Keith snickers, but shrugs.

He shouldn’t make assumptions about other trainers based on the pokemon they let roam free-- logically Keith knows this, but he’s battled enough cutesy-trainers to make a few informed judgements.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith thinks he'll never see Shiro or his stupid cute pokemon ever again.  
> He's wrong.  
> And he kinda likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is in no way adhering to poke-canon as far as timelines go, so... sorry.  
> Learn a bit more about Keith's [Zorua](https://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Zorua_\(Pok%C3%A9mon\))!

 

It isn’t until hours later when Keith is tucked into his sleeping bag with Zorua under his arm that he realizes he should have hidden her the moment they’d heard movement. The little Pokémon is rare and strong, and female Zorua are highly sought after. Very few people know Keith has one, and now Shiro is a part of that very short list.

Keith knows nothing about Shiro, and yet Zorua had stayed in her true form, had allowed the other man close…

Beside him, she lets out a sharp huff and burrows her nose into his armpit.

Right. He should sleep.

There’s lots to do before the tournament begins, and given the number of attendees and trainers, they’ll probably never run into Shiro again.

  
  


Keith wakes to pressure against his chest. Short jabs that increase in frequency until he groans and opens his eyes.

A little girl with a huge smile is kneeling beside him,  poking his sternum so hard it might bruise.

Keith narrows his eyes and lazily reaches out a hand, tugging swiftly on the dark tail that hides behind the child’s back and in a poof, Zorua returns to her original form with a happy yip.

He spoils her with attention before sitting up, spine protesting to his stretch with a series of cracks.

Zorua headbutts his stomach and prances near the tent door before returning again, her crown nuzzling his navel and then dancing off again.

“It’s open, you can go out,” Keith grumbles, feeling around for his socks.

She levels him with a flat look and changes form again.

This time it’s a boy with silver hair and a pink smudge across the bridge of his nose. His eyes are wide and excited and a beautiful gray that reminds Keith of a desert storm.

“Shiro?” he murmurs, and Zorua’s tail thumps the floor of the tent happily before she darts outside.

Keith scrambles after her, and sure enough, there is a purple tent being set up in the next campsite, and a glint of silver in the soft morning light.

Shiro drops his mallet when Zorua barrels towards him, still presenting as a miniature version of the man himself.

“Wow,” he says, reaching out.

He pauses, looking to Keith, but Zorua all but leaps under his hand, rubbing her face against his palm.

Keith is rooted to the spot for two reasons.

The first is that he’s never seen Zorua interact this way with anyone but himself-- true she doesn’t get to meet other trainers often, but Keith always lets her out to play with kids or other Pokémon if the coast is clear.

The second is because Shiro is staring at him with pink-tinged cheeks and Keith is suddenly very aware he stumbled out of his tent in only his briefs and a pair of offensively colorful socks he’d gotten from Lance.

He turns tail and races back into the tent, pulling on whatever he can find first, and when he returns Zorua looks like a little dog once more and Shiro is cutting up potatoes and placing them in foil packets with sausages and butter.

“I’ll cook today,” he says, still rosy-cheeked and looking down at his task, “since you hosted me all day yesterday.”

Keith shifts his weight from one foot to the other, awkwardly scratching at his elbow.

“Uh yeah, thanks.”

Shiro finally looks up with a bright smile that knocks the breath from Keith’s lungs.

The Pokémon Shiro has out today is a Sylveon, and Zorua takes to him as easily as the Slurpuff yesterday. He’s bigger than an average Eevolution, and Keith is both impressed and unsettled by him. The Pokémon lays beside his trainer but keeps his eyes on Keith, looking both curious and knowing at the same time.

Keith busies himself with cleaning up after they eat, avoiding those big blue eyes.

 

After breakfast, Shiro offers Keith some whiskey infused cream for his coffee and they sip slowly. The drink is sweet and only faintly boozy and it sits warm in Keith’s stomach. Shiro gives him another small smile and he sighs.

“Shiro,” he says firmly, “I don’t know you, and we don’t owe each other anything but I need a favor from you.”

The older man’s smile softens, and he nods for Keith to continue.

“I need for you to keep Zorua a secret.”

Shiro’s eyes flick from the Pokémon dozing against his own and back to Keith.

“I need your word,” Keith continues, gripping the mug that warms his hands.

“You have it,” Shiro says simply, reaching out his left hand in offering.

Keith takes it, trying not to think about how warm and wide the older man’s hand feels against his own, failing miserably.

“You know,” Shiro says later, “Your Zorua’s impression of me was almost perfect.”

“Almost?” Keith replies with a grin.

“Well the scar is more... recent,” the older man explains, before hesitating a moment, “And my hair… at that age my hair was black.”

He looks at Shiro for a long moment. He can’t be that old, maybe a handful of years older than Keith himself. The silver looks natural on him, as if he was related to Professor Willow, but the hesitation in the confession makes Keith a bit uneasy.

Shiro chuckles, avoiding his gaze.

There’s a noise and a poof and Zorua plops in front of them, a miniature copy of Shiro, scar-less with black hair, eyes crinkling as she looks at Keith.

“I think the silver looks good,” he says, glancing at Shiro, his heart is thudding against his sternum as if he’d just battled a gym leader-- maybe he should slow down on the coffee.

Shiro looks at him for a long time with a crooked smile on his face.

Keith… doesn’t hate it.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip into town and a mystery unfolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh here comes the plot!

Shiro never asks to battle.

It’s a nice change from other trainers who only seem to want to practice. Keith gets it, really he does, but he prefers training his own way and not as some kind of attempt at faux-socializing. Shiro seems to have a similar approach, because he doesn’t question Keith when he disappears for most of the day and comes back with pick-up tags from the PokeHospital, and Keith has never seen Shiro let other pokemon out other than his Slurpuff and Sylveon. He’s keeping his cards close to his chest, and Keith respects that.

They’re in town when the competitor's list and ranking drops. They both get the alert on their holophones, but Keith spots a large screen nearby where they can view it together. 

The list is… shorter than Keith expected. There are all the big names he’s familiar with, and a handful of unknowns. He smiles to himself when he sees McClain and Team Holt on the list, and he skims the rest without much emotion.

“Anyone you’re nervous about?” Shiro asks, it sounds innocent-- it probably  _ is _ innocent-- but Keith hesitates to answer.

He worries his lip for a moment before tapping a name.

“Lotor,” he says, “he’s a newer trainer but has been crushing the circuit in the north. And…”

He searches the list again before touching the second name.

“Takashi,” he nods, “he’s… he’s the reason I became a trainer.”

Shiro looks at him with a curious smile.

“When I was starting out, I was struggling to afford gym fees and competition entry. One of my pokemon got injured really badly and a guy I know interviewed me on his video channel about it. Trainer Takashi dropped a ton of credits into my account with a short note and it’s helped me get to where I am now.”

It feels strange, telling the story, but Shiro listens intently and has a funny look in his eye when Keith is finished. It’s… cute.

“What did the note say?”

“Believe in yourself. Patience yields focus.”

“Good advice.”

“I tried to find him,” Keith admits, “I went to as many open competitions as I could, but he was never there. He just… vanished. He was a champion and then he was gone. He’s back now, after a year long hiatus.”

“It seems like someone who would do that doesn’t need any sort of gesture of gratitude. He’s probably just happy to see you succeeding.”

Shiro’s hand brushes his own for a moment before squeezing his shoulder. Keith’s skin feels hot under the touch, and when he looks at Shiro his eyes are soft.

“Who are you worried about?” he asks, looking away quickly.

Shiro shrugs, tugging on Keith’s sleeve until they’re walking back towards the campsite.

“Just you,” he says lightly, shooting Keith another smile that absolutely doesn’t make his heart thud a bit faster.

Shiro nudges him with an elbow.

“I don’t want to make you cry when I kick your ass,” he continues, raising both eyebrows and then breaking into a run when Keith lunges at him.

Keith stumbles as they near the tents, and Shiro catches him easily with a laugh. He glares up at the older man, but he just smiles in return, rubbing his thumbs against Keith’s elbows.

“But honestly,” he says quietly, “I don’t wanna battle against you.”

He can feel his cheeks flush but meets Shiro’s eyes with a frown.

“You’re in the wrong business if you don’t wanna battle,” he retorts.

Shiro’s hands move from their place on his arms to the small of his back, and Keith does his best to stand straight, even as he steps closer.

“Keith, I should tell you,” Shiro says seriously, “You… I… I’m--”

There’s a pop and Zorua materializes beside them, barking happily and running between their legs. Keith steps away quickly, crouching down to let her clamber up onto his shoulder.

There’s a crease on Shiro’s forehead that wasn’t there before, but he smiles and pats Zorua affectionately before releasing his Sylveon. Zorua leaps off of Keith and chases after the other pokemon while Shiro follows without a glance back.

 

Something is wrong at the campsite. 

Zorua growls and transforms in a flash, running and hiding behind Keith. He can feel her tremble against him and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end when he hears Sylveon growl.

Shiro releases his Slurpuff and the small pokemon scents out every edge of their combined space before coming back looking defeated. He gives the pokemon a gentle pat and a small treat before returning them to their pokeball.

Shiro and Sylveon stand watch outside Keith’s tent as he check his things over. Nothing is out of place, but Zorua still hasn’t transformed back. When they return, Shiro’s Sylveon has a ribbon wrapped tight around his trainer’s wrist, looking up at him with those big, calculating eyes. His grip doesn’t loosen, even as they duck into their own tent.

They take a long time, and Keith is about to lose is patience and go in to help when Shiro emerges. His Sylveon now has his ribbons tight around his leg and he looks pale.

“What’s wrong?” Keith breathes, already reaching out.

There’s a piece of paper crumpled in Shiro’s hand. He lets Keith take it and he smooths it out, looking down at the two words written in dark purple ink.

_ Vrepit Sa. _

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo this is my first attempt at a chaptered fic in a LONG TIME. I hope I don’t disappoint anyone.
> 
> Come scream at me on tumblr:  
> @shiropropaganda


End file.
